


Touch

by redspedic



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Other, bloodhounds pov, wraith and bangalore will be kinda in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redspedic/pseuds/redspedic
Summary: Bloodhound doesn't want to let the shield around their heart break -But they also start noticing how well their hand would fit Mirage's.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I was really tired while writing this, so PLEASE if you notice any mistakes with pronouns, do tell me!

Their heart was old already, beating to keep their worn soul alive and their tired lungs breathing.  


Old enough to know how everything always ended up and how none of it would ever work out. 

  
It had built a shield around it – to keep their heart safe from their feelings and unnecessary sleepless nights with someone certain in mind, because they'd once felt it and gone through the nights in front of the mirror, thinking of someone certain braiding their hair or gently grasping their cheek –  
And their young heart had got broken, and it had never wanted to feel it again.  
  
It had stopped singing its songs –  
And it had never sang again after their crushed sensibilities.  
  
And they never wanted to hear it sing again.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't Bloodhound's first time at the games of Apex.  
They had won already two of them – but the time for a new one was always there, no matter how much someone had lost before.  
That's one of the reasons Bloodhound didn't get attached. They would lose it all, again and again – it was better to keep their distance.

″So, teams of three, huh?″  
″Yeah. We fight as one. One falls, you help them back.″  
″I know - kinda. I've seen it happen. On TV.″  
″Shouldn't be too new to you, then.″  
There were two people talking to each other – Wraith, they were aware of her, but the other one was someone they'd never met before.  
With every step the pair took, hands flailing as they were explaining things to each other or questioning something, they got closer to Bloodhound.  
They weren't confused as in why the pair would get closer. They were paired with Bloodhound.  
And they didn't think about the girl's careful gazes either – they knew she'd be nervous in the presence of a well known tracker; a murderer with the sight of their Allfather; someone who people admired and feared at the same time.

Bloodhound's hand was placed on the map on the table before them as the pair finally stopped in their tracks. The new one was about the same height as Bloodhound was, looking about their age too – the closer they inspected him behind their mask, the better they could see his eyes sparkling in excitement.  
The spark would be gone soon enough.  
″Bloodhound, right?″ he asked with a grin and offered his hand to shake theirs. They didn't lift their hand up.  
″Yes.″  
″Okay″, he let out a nervous laugh and put his hand back to his side, ″I'm Mirage. It's... an honor to– to fight with you.″ Mirage seemed to be a little nervous.  
To think about it, he had known their name already, too.  
Was he one of the people who admired their won games? (Or as some people would call these people – fans? Bloodhound had never felt too comfortable with calling their admirers that.)

″Together, we will achieve victory″, Bloodhound smiled behind their mask to the new player and lifted their hand up to offer the shake they had earlier rejected. The actual smile seemed to come back on Mirage's face as he took a hold of Bloodhound's hand, giving it a tiny squeeze.  
His hand felt warming on their gloved hand.  
The moment was over as soon as Bloodhound pulled their hand back and placed it to rest on the map once again.  
Bloodhound could see Wraith placing her hand on Mirage's shoulder for a delicate moment, they supposed it was meant to be done in a supportive way, before she stepped closer to the table too.  
″Let's see this map now.″

 

* * *

 

 

In the lonely evenings, as their eyes were locked on their reflection inside their room, in the dim light of the moonlight –  
Bloodhound, looking at their face with their mask in their hand, could hear their heart hum.  
They didn't want to hear it the slightest – they wanted to get rid of the feeling inside their chest, they didn't want to feel the pungent feeling inside their gut every time he'd wink at them or tell a joke again –  
Bloodhound placed their hand on their chest, right to rest on the surface of the fabric, covering their chest and the chest covering their heart from their hand.

Sometimes they'd think of how it'd feel to see his reaction if they'd be quick enough to flirt back – or how his hand would feel without the glove covering their hand; would it be harsh, would it be soft?  
And they'd press their back against the wall, lifting their chin up as their eyes locked onto the ceiling above them, wondering how it'd feel to trust someone again and feel more than their hollow heart with its shield had allowed them to.  
They'd fall slowly, sliding against the wall behind them, to sit and they'd wrap their arms around their knees, shutting their eyes as they thought of removing their mask in his presence and feeling a warm feeling on their lips–

It had gone too far.  
They could never trust anyone again, they knew.  
But still –  
Their heart kept on humming the same old song they'd almost forgot.

 

* * *

 

 

″Guess I owe you a dinner now, huh?″  
Bloodhound put their syringe away as their gaze was raised upon Mirage, getting up in pain after just getting revived.  
″Why would you?″ they asked in slight confusion and they could hear Mirage let out a little laugh.  
″It's, uh– Just an offer, I guess? I mean, you just literally saved my ass in here, so it'd be fair, right?″  
Bloodhound didn't know why Mirage thought he had to pay back their previous act. It was natural for them to help a fallen friend – and if they'd fall, Mirage would help them. It was nothing to thank them for.

″You do not need to″, they finally responded as their eyes, covered by their mask, fell back on their arm as they tried to heal their wounds with a syringe.  
″Okay. But hey– At least let me help you with your wounds, okay?″ Bloodhound heard Mirage offer as they felt the man taking their hands in his hands, shifting in his position to make it less painful.  
″You're hurt″, they reminded, ″You should take care of yourself first before anyone else.″  
″Huh. Great words from someone who just shot two guys and came to help me″, Mirage laughed as he started to take care of Bloodhound's hands, ″And you're shot all over.″  
Bloodhound felt his hands lightly grasp theirs along his words. They hadn't realized before how firm his hands were.

″I will always strive to help a friend in need.″  
″Yeah″, he agreed and they started to feel better under his care, their wounds starting to feel less painful with every second passing by.  
″Yeah, you do. It's good″, Mirage murmered and slid his hands gently along Bloodhound's lower arm, ″But you could've died, too. You just ran in.″  
″I have the Allfather by my side.″  
″And us! I wanna help you too. Bangalore– she, uh, is probably gathering some loot outside. But she'd wanna help you too, I bet.″  
They felt his hands lingering on their hands. His eyes were locked on their hands as he was seemingly playing with Bloodhound's gloved fingers.  
Though they were confused with Mirage's sudden burst of worry, they couldn't bring themself to ask about it or move their hand away. His movement was relaxing in a way.  
″Sorry.″  
″Don't apo– apolo–″ Mirage was stuttering with his words again, trying to find the right way to pronounce the word. Bloodhound didn't want to interrupt him.  
″Don't say sorry. It's okay. I get that some people just... I don't know, aren't as depending as some other people″, Mirage continued his speech and let go of Bloodhound's hand.  
They almost reached back for his hand – almost.

″We should get back to Bangalore before she blows our brains out for being too lazy in here″, Mirage laughed and stumbled a bit on his way to get up.  
Bloodhound pressed their hand against a wall for support as they got up too, watching Mirage open the door of the worn, narrow shack they were in.  
″Okay.″

 

* * *

 

The quiet humming had turned to delicate singing.

At night, again, Bloodhound pressed their hand against the mirror, feeling slight scratchs on its surface as their fingers were tracing their reflection.  
The mask was safe on the floor, right next to their worn bed, as they took little steps further away from the mirror and explored their reflection with their gaze.

Bloodhound raised their hands just a bit to bring their arms slightly higher, and they'd almost forgotten the time they had last done the little spin they just did again. They fell to sit on their bed, feeling it beneath their hands; the soft fabric of the cover, the mattress under them feeling always just right – never feeling too hard for their back to rest on.

As Bloodhound fell to lie on the bed, they thought about his voice again and how they'd reply next time – if that ever happened.  
_Guess I owe you a dinner now, huh?_  
″You don't. I don't eat with the mask on.″  
That was terrible. They could never get to know more of him if they'd always refuse.  
_And again?_  
″Maybe some other time″, they practiced and it started to sound better. They were very well aware of the fact that they, indeed, didn't want to take their mask off in front of people. Not even in front of him – at least yet.  
_This time?_  
″Perhaps another location would be better?″ But where?  
"Maybe..." What would he like to do? What would Bloodhound like to do?  
″Spending time together elsewhere?″ They _really_ didn't know where they were aiming with that – maybe they wanted to go stargazing or just walk around places with him – but they felt more confident.

The singing in their heart didn't feel too pressuring anymore –  
They knew their heart would probably never allow them to trust him enough, or let them get emotionally attached too much.  
But if it didn't want that, it should've stopped their chest from itching the moment he first touched their hand.

 

* * *

 

 

″Hey, check out that tree.″  
Bloodhound's attention was drawn to the tree Mirage asked them to look at.  
″What about it?″  
″I don't know″, Mirage confessed as he got closer to the tree with a silly grin on his lips, knocking on the wood, ″It's funny. It's all big and lumpy. See? It goes, like, two different ways.″  
Bloodhound took a few steps closer to the tree, investigating the wooden creature of nature behind their mask.  
″It does.″  
″Right? It's kinda funny?″  
Bloodhound lowered their gaze on Mirage, gently swaying while standing and eyes locked on Bloodhound, waiting for a response. Probably for a positive one.  
″Kind of, yes.″

Mirage smiled at the response and collapsed to the front of the tree, leaning to press his back against the wood.  
″Can we just... Stay here for a moment?″ He pat the ground next to him, implying for them to sit down next to him.  
″It is dangerous″, they reminded him and he sighed.  
″I know, I know, it's just–″ They were patient, waiting for his explanation.  
″It's my legs, they're hurting. Knees, I mean. Prosthetics. They're hurting a lot now.″  
Bloodhound took a minute in to inspect Mirage and his legs – they had never noticed his prosthetics. His legs were always covered, though – and to be fair, Bloodhound wasn't the type to really be staring at anyone's legs long enough to notice anything about them through the fabric covering them.

Bloodhound took a seat next to Mirage and at first they sat with their back straightened and legs crossed, before they were trusting the atmosphere enough to relax and press their back against the tree, too.  
″Do they hurt often?″  
″Not really″, Mirage wondered, ″Sometimes. Usually when it happens it's at night for some hours, but it's been continuing for some time now.″  
Bloodhound could notice Mirage's gaze lifting up to the sky. Bloodhound raised their head too.  
″Do you want to talk about it?″ Bloodhound asked as they were searching for clouds to look at in the sky.  
″Huh?″  
″How you lost them.″  
″Oh″, Mirage realized, ″Uh, no, not really. Just a stupid accident.″  
″Do you really think that?″ They didn't hear Mirage say anything to it.

For a moment, it was just quiet between them – the two of them looking at the sky and sitting next to each other, Bloodhound at times making sure with their allsight that no one was near them.  
They could feel Mirage shifting a bit closer to Bloodhound – they didn't react to it.  
″Thanks.″  
Bloodhound turned their head to look at Mirage, whose head was slowly tilting to rest on their shoulder.  
″For what?″  
″For staying here″, he clarified, ″Most people wouldn't have stopped. Especially in a place like this, you know.″ He was probably talking about the slight upward slope they were resting at, covered between walls of solid rock.  
″I've been checking our surroundings often. We should be safe here for now″, Bloodhound assured him and lowered their hand to rest on the ground instead of their lap. They felt him placing his hand on top of their hand to bring warmth between them.  
″Yeah. Thanks.″  
They would usually demand their teammates to stop screwing around and continue searching and fighting – however, their other teammate had already died (and the banner had ran out of time while they had tried to fight off enemies around them) and they felt a sting inside their chest every time they thought about scolding Mirage to get up and move.  
″Are you tired?″ Bloodhound asked after noticing Mirage had shut his eyes and his head felt heavier on their shoulder than it had earlier.  
″Kinda, yeah, but– But don't worry, I'm gonna get up soon, sorry.″  
Bloodhound lowered their gaze to their hands, and they slowly turned their hand a bit to feel Mirage's palm with their thumb.  
″Rest for a moment. We will continue our quest soon enough.″

 

* * *

 

 

It started to feel painful.  
They'd stare at their ceiling, listening to their heart sing its old songs to them as they'd remember the last time it had done that.  
They'd remember how it had ended and how they had decided to protect their heart from never having to go through it again.

But here they were, resting in their bed once again, and they couldn't resist the song echoing inside their chest – they'd see his face and a light of hope, a spark of grace they hadn't felt worthy of deserving in forever.  
And they'd still feel his hand on theirs, every time their fingers carefully brushed against the others or how he'd place his hand on top of theirs, resting it there and continuing to talk about stuff he found interesting, and they'd listen with their eyes still locked on their hands.

Bloodhound's feelings felt too real for them to handle – it had been a long time since they had last felt anything like they did with him. And they didn't know how to exactly deal with it, or how to express their feelings in front of him – but somehow, he always seemed to understand their words, even if they hadn't fully understood them themself.

They wanted to feel the sweet feeling of trusting again, they wanted to break the shield around their heart and let them be vulnerable in front of someone for once in their lifetime –  
But their heart knew how that'd end.

 

* * *

 

Bloodhound, as well as Mirage, was out of healing supplies.  
They were stacked inside a tiny, worn out shack with a only a little chance of safety. Bloodhound wasn't hurt badly – Mirage, instead, was resting against a wall with deep wounds and blood slowly dripping from them. His breathing sounded painful as he tried to find anything helpful inside his backpack, cursing under his breath.  
″You should stay here″, Bloodhound reassured Mirage and kneeled in front of him, ″I will take care of the enemies.″  
″There's lots of them, Houndie″, he reminded with a quiet whine, ″You can't. You're just gonna die.″  
″I won't.″ They lifted their hand up, carefully, closer to Mirages and they held it close, asking for a permission in their own way.

Mirage turned his wrist so he could press his thumb on Bloodhound's gloved palm and stroke it.  
″You think some of them have died already?″  
″A lot, probably. There's firing all the time″, Bloodhound thought, ″There still is.″  
″Yeah, but...″ Mirage looked like he was trying to get up as he spoke, ″I still can't let you out there.″ They pressed their free hand against Mirage's chest and with a gentle push, they positioned him back to rest against the wall.  
″I will not die. The Allfather shall decide my death″, they confirmed with a softer voice to reassure the man before him, ″My time has not come yet.″  
Mirage was silent for a moment and they could still feel him trying to find comfort from the palm of their hand.  
″You promise me you won't die?″  
″Yes.″

Mirage tilted his head to rest against the corner of the two walls he was supporting himself on. He pressed the last stroke on their palm before letting go of their hand, pulling his hands up to his knees.  
″Be back soon, okay?″  
Bloodhound got up from the kneeling position and watched Mirage close his eyes.  
″Rest here. I will return.″

  
It did take time.  
They took some damage.  
They, however, had the Allfather by their side, guiding them and giving them sight – and the last of the standing enemies was down soon enough.  
Bloodhound reloaded their shotgun, watching as the woman before them fell to her face on the ground and they let out a breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding in.  
There was a thing more important than watching a woman lie on the ground dead, confirming their victory –  
And they turned their back to the corpse, starting to head back to a worn shack they had left before.

Bloodhound opened the door of the shack, yet again kneeling in front of the man they had been paired with. Mirage had his eyes closed and his breathing was still as heavy as it had been before, and he was gripping his legs and bringing them closer to his chest to probably feel more warm.  
Bloodhound raised their hand to rest on Mirage's hand – and they still thought it'd fit perfectly if they'd just have the courage to grab it - and they felt Mirage shifting under their touch, soon enough opening his eyes.  
″Huh? Oh, you're– You're back, hey. Hi.″  
″Hello.″  
″So, we– Did you do it? Did we win?″  
Bloodhound stood up and helped Mirage to get up, holding him firmly in their grip.  
″Yes. We won″, they announced as they turned their back to Mirage and with a little squat, they grabbed Mirage under his thighs and lifted him to rest against their back.  
″Hey, I can– Actually, no, I can't walk. Sorry.″  
″Do not worry″, they comforted, ″I will assist you.″

While walking, they cautiously brough their other hand to gently grab Mirage's. They felt him squeezing their hand and his head, once again, fell heavy on their shoulder. They still had to keep a hold of him so he wouldn't fall, though, so they brought their hands under Mirage's thigh to support him on their back.  
Bloodhound felt Mirage wrapping his other arm around their neck and they could feel him starting to relax more.  
They felt a limp arm on the ground brush their feet.  
They didn't stop.

Mirage had his eyes closed, they knew that.  
With this, Bloodhound also knew he was shielding his sight from the field of murder they were walking through.

″The dinner offer...″ Bloodhound started with a wary voice and they heard Mirage hum a questioning sound.  
″Did you really mean it?″  
″I mean, yeah″, Mirage confessed, ″I could take you to dinner - or anywhere, really – if you'd like it. I could even pay. Just tell the place and time and I'll be there.″ They could hear the little laugh he let out after his offer.  
″After we survive this quest″, Bloodhound let a tiny smile grow on their lips behind their mask, ″I will tell you.″

They had always thought that they couldn't let their heart sing to them anymore.  
They had always thought that if it'd ever happen again, they'd turn down the volume –  
But maybe they could learn to appreciate their music again.


End file.
